Memories Lost
by cas-the-unicorn
Summary: People say that the first thing you forget about someone is their voice. That isn't always the case. In progress.
1. Chapter 1

**If you can think of some people for me to write, please review and tell me! I already have the next couple chapters planned out.**

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><p>Bucky<p>

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><p>Steve was not one to forget his past very easily, no matter how much he sometimes wanted to. He had always had an impressive memory, and the serum had just enhanced it even more. He could still remember what he had for breakfast two Mondays ago, he remembered the captions of the history books Fury had given him — hell, after seventy years of being frozen in the water, he could still remember that Dodgers game. It even surprised him sometimes.<p>

One of the only things he couldn't bear to forget was the first thing he did.

It was a few weeks after the battle of New York. Steve was doing a bit of sketching in a notebook Natasha had given him, a hobby Tony will always mock him for. He, as always, could remember every freckle, every scar, every shadow on Bucky's face as he laughed. He would lean his head down and laugh to his chest or his hand. His face would tilt the the left, just enough to expose a thin pink scar, courtesy of Hydra.

Steve was able to draw every single detail of his best friend, right down to the little chip in his tooth he had received when they were fifteen.

Then he got to colouring.

He shaded the navy blue of Bucky's jacket perfectly. He added in each hair with care the perfect brown. The tan of his scarred skin was just as he remembered.

But he couldn't remember what colour his eyes were.

Were they green, blue, a mix of both? He knew they weren't brown, or any crazy colour, but he just couldn't remember.

A small tear dropped onto the pad of paper. Then another. Eventually his tears were silent rain.

Of all the things.

He knew what he had for breakfast two weeks ago, he knew the captions of the textbook, he knew the Rodgers game. He knew Thor's favourite food, the new television show Tony was currently into, even where Natasha gets her bullets, which she told him more than a month ago.

Steve ripped the paper out of its place in the sketchpad and hurled it with such force at the rubbish can that it tipped over.

Why, of all the things to forget, did it have to be his best friend's eyes?

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><p>The next thing hit him even harder.<p>

Steve and Tony were watching a movie. Steve couldn't remember what Tony had said the title was, but it was from sometime around the 1980's. He was getting a lot better at being able to tell when things were from.

During the movie, these two people seemed to be arguing. Well, not really agruing, per say, but acting like it. It seemed friendly. The taller one was obviously hiding a grin, and the shorter one seemed to have trouble ignoring that fact.

"It was just one piece of chocolate!" Tall exclaimed. "You can't miss it that much!"

"That was my last piece of _milk _chocolate! You couldn't have at least stolen the dark?"

"Nope, sorry. Annoying you was on my to do list today, and Mumma says I have to have it done by dinner."

Tony laughed. "That sounds like you and me, Spangles."

And for that moment, it did.

But after Shorty sighed, he chuckled and said, "You're a punk."

Steve had heard that line before. Bucky had said those exact words before he went to fight in the war.

Steve replayed the memory in his mind.

_"Don't do anything stupid until I get back."_

_"How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you."_

_"You're a punk."_

_"Jerk. Be careful... Don't win the war until I get there!"_

But something felt wrong as he thought about that day. He remembered the day perfectly, all the words spoken and unspoken, but as he played back their conversation, it felt...wrong.

What was it? That was exactly how their conversation went, everything identical to the actual day in 1942, except...

_That wasn't how Bucky's voice sounded._

Steve had used some random voice for Bucky.

He thought back to all of their conversations together. His mum's funeral, after all his fights in the alleys, them laughing together with all of the other Howling Commandos.

Nothing.

Steve had forgotten the sound of his best friend's voice. The man he had known since he was six. The man who, as a child, had pulled Steve out of his pathetic little fist fights and cleaned him up afterwards. He couldn't remember his voice.

That was a low blow, universe.

Steve got up calmly and quickly walked to his room, before Tony could see his red eyes.

It had only been about a year since 1944 for him. A year, and he had forgotten how Bucky sounded laughing with him, agruing with him, mourning with him.

He was so disappointed in himself. Why couldn't he have tried harder to keep hold of his older life?

At least one good thing had come from losing the voice of his honourary brother.

He couldn't remember how he sounded screaming.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve hoped that he never had to worry about losing anything about Peggy. She had been one of the last people he had seen, after all. She had been the last voice he heard. He could never forget his girl.

Could he?

Turns out, Steve was a pretty good chef, among other talents. There were few things a small, sickly, Brooklyn kid could do with his time except cook, draw, and occasionally gain some musical skills.

But apparently, the thought had never crossed any of the Avenger's minds.

So, when they woke up to a delicious looking and smelling array of breakfast foods one morning, you could say that they were surprised.

Steve was already eating.

"Morning."

Tony gulped. "JARVIS, did Pepper order catering?"

"No sir."

Steve sighed. "I made it, Tony. I was bored."

Natasha narrowed her eyes at that, knowing that Steve most likely had an underlying reason to this buffet.

"Seriously? You made all this?"

Steve raised his eyebrows. "Yeah."

Clint grinned. "Thanks, show boy." (Tony had found out about his days selling war bonds and had, of course, made sure the whole team and half the people he passed on the street knew about it.) He clapped Steve on the shoulder, took a plate from the cupboard, and began to fill his plate.

"Thank you, Steve," Bruce said sincerely. He too started to make his own plate.

Five minutes later, all the Avengers — minus Thor, he was on Asgard — were eating Steve's wonderfully prepared meal of crepes, curtisey of a French man he encountered in Europe in 1944, bacon, sausage, eggs, toast, waffles, and various fruits.

Natasha kept trying to meet Steve's eyes, but he avoided looking at her. One look, he knew, would reveal to her the pain in his eyes, and the hopeless determination.

It had happened the day before, a few months after the beginning of his search for Bucky. Steve was staying at Stark's big tower thing, whatever he decided to call it. All of the Avengers were living there for the time being. Steve had been traveling around with Sam, looking for any rumour or hint about Bucky, but had decided to take a bit of a break after Sam almost talked his ears off begging him to take some time off.

At around ten o'clock at night, the doorbell rang. Tony jumped up from his slouched position in his armchair to get it, knowing who it was.

Steve stayed sitting down, because he also knew who it was.

"Pepper! Nice to finally see you!"

Pepper laughed. "I've been gone three days, Tony."

"There days too long."

Tony grabbed her hand and dragged her into the main room. "Look who's back!"

Clint gave Pepper a small smile. "We could tell."

All of the heroes welcomed her back, and Tony gave her a kiss on the lips.

Natasha sighed. "Save the PDA for the bedroom."

But Steve smiled. It reminded him of his last kiss. It was from Peggy, in 1944. It may sound sad, but it had only been about a year ago for him. They had both been in that little car, racing to get him to the Hydra ship.

Peggy had kissed him right on the lips. On the plane, he could remember licking his lips and having them taste like that thin strawberry gloss she liked to occasionally put over them.

Actually, it was cherry.

Pomegranate.

Raspberry.

Peggy had been wearing her special gloss that day, Steve knew it, but what had it tasted like?

What had Peggy's lips tasted like?

Steve stood up from his place on the couch. "I'm feeling bit tired. I'm going to head to bed. Welcome home, Miss Pots."

Steve walked to his room as quickly as possible without raising suspicion.

Once he had the door closed, he let out a breath. It hitched. His legs gave out on him, and Steve slid down the door. He put his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He couldn't take a full breath in. He was crying, but his eyes were dry and no sound could be heard.

Eventually he couldn't even hold that position any longer, and he folded his arms on knees and rested his forehead on them.

Steve still made no sound, but the tears began to flow.

Now, Steve was just acting foolish. He knew he was, but he couldn't help it. He got up at five, got ready for the day, went on a run, showered, and made the most brightly tasted breakfast foods he could think of. Strong maple syrup to go on waffles. Huge strawberries at the perfect red. Every single strong flavour he could think of for breakfast.

And he ate a tiny bit of it all. Just enough for a taste. Half a crepe, one piece of bacon, half a sausage, one strawberry, one quarter of a waffle, a ripped off piece of toast, a piece of egg, a little piece of everything. The amount of food his breakfast composed of was more fit for a ten year old girl than a super soldier.

"Feeling okay, Rogers?" Tony asked. "You usually eat enough to feed a small village, not a small child."

"Yeah, I'm good." Steve told him.

Steve ate every crumb on his plate, then got up, despite his still empty stomach.

Steve had needed a pallet cleanser, not a pallet replacer. His mouth had felt weirdly empty and think after his discovery the night before, as if someone has taking his whole sense of taste away, not just the Peggy part of it.

And now he knew that it wasn't his tongue acting up, it was him. His senses weren't betraying him, he was.

First his best friend, now his best girl. Steve just loved to betray everyone, didn't he?

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><p><strong>Okay, I have no idea how many people are reading this, hopefully a lot, but do you guys think you could give me some ideas on who to do next? I'm thinking his mother, but I really want this fic to have a lot of people, not just three.<strong>

**And to the guest that reviewed, thank you so much! I didn't even feel like I did my best on that first chapter, since I had to hurry to get it up before my parents turned my WiFi off, but you just raised my self esteem. Thank you!**

**Please review!**


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